Down and Dirty: SEAL EXtreme Team Short Story

by Kimberley Troutte

  Nick blacked out.

  He woke face down in the dirt several feet from the Humvee. Everything was smoky, eerie, and silent. His ears weren’t ringing—they were completely deaf. “Watson, Connor! Report!” he screamed, blinking away the dirt and crap streaming out of his eyes.

  He tried to get up, but his legs didn’t want to work right. He crawled to the left, hands outstretched, feeling for David Watson in the pieces of the wreckage. He found him. His sniper hadn’t survived the crash.

  “Son of a bitch!” He pounded the ground with his fist and then stiffened when pain shot through his body. He was hurt, how badly he didn’t know. He wouldn’t stop to find out. “Connor, where are you, man? Report!”

  There was no answer. Or maybe his screwed up eardrums couldn’t hear the answer. He’d go with that. Nick crawled, sucking in great gulps of dusty, smoky air, ignoring the edges of darkness creeping into his vision. He couldn’t pass out. Billy needed him.

  Humvee shit was strewn all over the place. Nick pushed aside what he could and crawled around the larger pieces, searching…searching. He was moving too slowly, but he couldn’t seem to make his limbs go any faster. “Billy!”

  And then Nick saw what he never wanted to see. His best friend was buried underneath the engine block. Billy was stone-cold still. That engine block was a heavy mother, but Nick’s heart was heavier. Making it to his knees, he used every ounce of strength he had to lift the metal. A torn-up mess was underneath. “Shit, Billy.”

  Nick began CPR, pouring his breath into his buddy’s lungs, forcing his heart to beat. It was no good, but he refused to give up. The rescue teams would have to pull his hands off Billy’s cold chest. “Live, damn you!”

  Nick heard his own voice. The explosion deafness was easing back. He gave two more quick breaths and Billy sputtered.

  “Hell…” Billy’s voice was weak, but his green eyes sparkled. “Always knew you wanted to kiss me.”

  Tears burned Nick’s eyes. “Shut up! You need to rest. Another SEAL team is on the way.” He hoped.

  “Watson?”

  “Didn’t make it.”

  “Crap. You’re hurt, Nick. Blood all over you, man.”

  “I’m okay.” He hurt all over, but most of the blood wasn’t his. He sat down. Ripping the cravat off his neck, he pressed it to a gaping wound in Billy’s side.

  “We’re exposed. Leave me, brother. I’m not going to make it.”

  “Shut up!” Nick looked around them. Billy was right. They were exposed. “That barn over there. We can make it.”

  “Not me. You go.” Billy’s face was a strange, moldy-meat shade of gray.

  “I’m not leaving you,” Nick growled. “Get that out of your thick head.”

  “Please, Nick. Go. But promise me…” he wheezed, “…you’ll look after my sister. This is going to mess her up. She loves me.”

  “Don’t know why. You’re a real pain in the ass. Stop this morbid shit so we can crawl to the barn for cover.”

  Blood had soaked through the cravat and was pooling into Nick’s cammies. This was FUBAR. His best friend couldn’t die. He scooped Billy up and cradled him in his arms.

  “Promise me.” Billy coughed.

  “Yeah, yeah. I’ll look after your sister. No hardship there. Thank holy God she’s not as ugly as you are.”

  Billy closed his eyes and let his head fall back against Nick. “Hell, no. She got the good-looking genes. Stubborn. Tough. Like you. Gonna be hard on her. Take care…of each other.”

  Billy’s eyes didn’t open again.

  Nick held on, closed his own eyes, and let the darkness take him.

  Gunshots woke him. Hostiles were close. Too close. Was he going to die in this shithole? With one arm still wrapped around Billy, he fired into the night. Hostiles returned fire, bullets ringing off the Humvee’s engine block.

  He battled on his own for fifteen minutes, loading and reloading his guns, and then Billy’s. The whistle of a launched missile cut the air. The explosion landed close to the barn. The assholes had missed. He pulled the trigger one last time and heard the fatal silence. Nick was out of ammo. Grabbing his knife, he was ready. They wouldn’t drag him away without a fight.

  “Come on, you bastards,” he growled. “Try to take me.”

  The hostiles fired again. This time a rally of machine gun fire responded, and the battle escalated. Relief flooded his chest.

  “Hang on, Billy. The rescue team’s here,” he whispered. But Billy didn’t move. He’d stopped breathing hours ago.

  A huge explosion rocked the night, shaking the ground beneath him. It was the biggest blast Nick had ever experienced. The hostiles stopped shooting. No one could’ve survived.

  “Hooyah! Willy’s Special got those suckers!” One of the SEALs cheered.

  A few minutes later, a SEAL stepped out of the darkness and squatted before him. His blue eyes scoured Nick’s face. “Lieutenant Commander Nick Talley?”

  Unsure of his voice, Nick nodded.

  “I’m Lieutenant Commander Mack Riley. We’re here to take you home. Can you stand?”

  Panic pounded through Nick’s heart. “I won’t leave Billy.”

  The other man’s eyes glanced at the cold body Nick cradled in his arms. “You never left him. You did well, Nick, fighting those bastards alone. But we need to get you out of here. Let Billy go now. We’ll take good care of him. I promise.” He whistled softly. “Tavon, a little help here.”

  A massive SEAL with dark skin scooped Billy’s body up as if he weighed ten pounds. “I’ve got him, brother. He’s at peace. Your buddy’s going home.”

  ****

  “Nick?” Jill pulled back. Her eyes poured over his face. “Are you okay?”

  He blinked, trying to get the horror out of his eyes.

  “Where’d you go?”

  Shut it down, Talley! You’re not there. Copy that? You’re here with Jill, you jackass!

  “What’s wrong, Nick? You’re shaking.”

  “Nothing.” He focused on her beautiful face. “It was a flashback. I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Hell, no. That was the worst vision yet. “Yeah, fine.” He tried to chuckle. It came out like a honk. Smooth, Talley. Kiss her already. “Come here, sweetheart.”

  Concentrating on her lips, Nick forced his mind to close off the memory. Mentally, he stomped it down with his steel-toed boots.

  She pressed her lips to his cheek, gently, as if she thought she’d break him.

  Screw that. He dove in, devouring her lips, chin, jawline, as if kissing her was the only thing that could save him. Maybe it was. A loud noise behind him made his nerves jump, but he refused to look. Jill was all that mattered. Running his hands through her full dark hair and down her back, he went on a relentless search to touch every part of her, to know all the fine details. A high-pitched ringing began in his ears, not unlike the squeal of a launched missile. He would have ignored it completely, but his palms were wet. And sticky.

  He broke the kiss and leapt to his feet. “You’re bleeding!”

  “I am? Where?”

  He held out his hands. They were shaking so badly that her blood rushed through his fingers onto the floor. Buckets and buckets of it.

  “Son of a bitch!” He leaned her forward so he could see where she was injured. “Don’t move!”

  Had he hurt her when he carried her? Did her stitches rip open? Blood was everywhere. It clouded his eyes. The metallic sweetness turned his stomach and brought back memories. Explosions. Screaming. “Doctor! Nurse!”

  “Nick! You’re scaring me.”

  Scaring her? He was ass-clenching terrified.

  “Someone help!” He scooped her up in his arms and ran out into the hallway. “I need help!”

  A nurse ran toward him. “What’s wrong?”

  “She’s hemorrhaging. Do something!” he yelled.

  The nurse lifted Jill’s gown and rolled down the sock. “It looks fine. The sutures aren’t
broken. There’s no blood.”

  “Are you blind? It’s everywhere. Her back, chest, dripping down her face.” He was starting to worry that all her blood would make his arms slick. He didn’t want to drop her, or the hostiles might steal her away. He’d kill those bastards. They couldn’t have his girl. He swayed.

  “Sir, are you okay?” the nurse said. “Orderly! We need help here.”

  “Nick…” Jill said softly. “You need to put me down.”

  “I can’t! You’re hurt. The IED exploded! Don’t you remember?” He blinked. His mind was spinning. “I mean…car accident. You’re hurt,” he repeated.

  “It’s okay, Nick. You’re going to be okay.” Her beautiful face was twisted in an odd expression of horror and sadness.

  The lights in the hallway were very bright. He could see clearly now. Jill’s nightgown was pink, not red. It was dry.

  “Put the patient down, sir. We don’t want any trouble here,” the nurse said firmly.

  “I thought…” He scoured Jill’s face. It was clean. “The blood wasn’t real?”

  She reached up and put her cool hand on his cheek. “We’ll figure it out together.”

  Humiliation and fear coursed through his veins. What had he done?

  A burly young man brought a wheelchair and Nick quickly set Jill in it. He didn’t trust himself to carry her back to her room. The way he was shaking, his legs might not carry him back.

  “You need to leave,” the nurse said to Nick.

  He ran his hand over his hair. “Yeah.” The reality of the situation hit him. What if he’d dropped her? Hurt her?

  “No! Nick, stay, please.” Jill reached for his hand and locked her fingers with his.

  He exhaled. “I’m screwed up.”

  Her green eyes pierced him. “Don’t you dare leave me, Lieutenant Commander.” To the nurse, she said, “Let him push.”

  The nurse shook her head. “I don’t think that’s wise.”

  “I do. Come on, Nick. Push me back to the room.”

  “I’m reporting this. If we have one more incident, I’ll call security,” the nurse warned. To the orderly, she said, “Go with them. Make sure she gets into bed safely.”

  “Will do.” The burly man fell in behind them.

  Nick could feel the guy’s breath down his neck, shadowing his every move. Carefully, he pushed Jill’s wheelchair down the hall, berating himself with every step.

  Back in her room, the orderly made moves to take charge, but there was no way in hell Nick would let another guy touch his girl. Side-blocking, he took the burly man’s forward impact with his sore ribs.

  “I’ve got this,” Nick growled.

  “Sure you do, tough guy. Why don’t you let me lift her? It’s my job.” The orderly must have thought he was talking to a five-year-old. Nick had the sudden desire to educate him the hard way.

  “Let Nick do it,” Jill said softly. “Please.”

  “You sure?” Giving Nick the head-to-toe-once-over, the orderly’s eyes spoke volumes. He clearly thought Nick should be in the psych ward.

  The guy wasn’t wrong.

  “Yes. I’m sure. Please go now,” Jill said sweetly. “I’ll call you if we need anything else.”

  Flashing one final evil glare that said “I’ve got my eye on you, mister,” the orderly left the room.

  Nick wrapped Jill’s arm around his shoulder and lifted her out of the chair. Gently, he placed her in the bed, but he couldn’t meet her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

  “Sit with me.” She patted the bed.

  He shook his head. “I should go.”

  She reached up, grabbed the bottom of his T-shirt, and tugged. “Closer. Closer. Good, now sit.” He kept his gaze on her blanket. “What happened out there?”

  “After that day…when Billy died…I see shit that isn’t there. Blood, mostly.” He looked at his hands. Thank God they were clean. “Lots of blood. The only real sleep I’ve had was with you.”

  “Oh, Nick. Come here.” She laid back and let him put his head on her shoulder. She was so soft and warm. “What are we going to do?”

  We? “Normally, I ignore this crap and hope things get straightened out.”

  “It’s happened before?”

  “Usually I keep it to myself and go back into the field. Fighting real bad guys kills the demons for a while. Four days ago, I started thinking ignoring the problem isn’t going to work anymore.”

  “Four days ago?”

  He looked into her eyes. Damn, a guy could get lost in all that compassion. “When I saw you.”

  She rubbed his scalp, temple, jaw muscles, her fingers massaging away the tension. “We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?”

  He took a deep breath. He had to say this now, or he might not get the chance. “Is that what you want? To be a couple?”

  Her heartbeat kicked up a notch under his ear.

  “Before you answer that…” He rose up on his elbow and gazed into her sweet face. “I can’t stop thinking about you. I’ve been dreaming about taking you to dinner, a movie, and a long moonlit drive. Every friggin’ day. I want to make love to you all night and bring you breakfast in bed. I’m falling for you, Jill. Hell, I’ve fallen.”

  She sucked in a stuttering breath.

  He rushed on, “But I’m not the man who should love you. Not like this.”

  She swallowed hard. “God, Nick. I feel like I’ve known you for years. I fell in love with you the first time Billy mentioned you in his letters, but the real man is seriously so much better.”

  “Billy probably lied.” He grinned. “So…you sort of like me?”

  “Sort of? That’s the understatement of the world. I’ve got the major hots for you, Lieutenant Commander.”

  He grinned. “Yes!”

  She laughed. “But we’ve both got work to do.”

  “I know. I want to be with you, Jill. Help you get stronger and fight for your dreams. I’ve never wanted anyone more, but I can’t be the man you need me to be. Not until my head is on straight. I’ll check myself in at the VA hospital and get my shit together.”

  “I wish I could be there with you.”

  “Yeah, me too.” He locked his fingers with hers. They fit so well. He kissed her bare ring finger. “It might take a while.”

  “Okay, so we have a plan.”

  “We do?”

  “Yep. I’ll get stronger, and you do the same. We’ve got to be in good shape for this crazy mud run thing. We’re warriors, right?”

  “That’s my girl.”

  He kissed her, and for a moment, the demons went away.

  Warrior Mud Run

  She stood at the starting line, anxiety flapping around in her stomach. It wasn’t pre-race jitters. Hundreds of people surrounded her, but Nick was nowhere in sight. Six months was a long time. Sure, they’d texted each other a few times, and she’d been able to call him once, but his therapy had been intense, and so had hers. She’d nearly worn out one of the electric blue running shoes Nick had given her—only one since her running prosthesis was a blade that didn’t require a shoe. He was beating back his demons. It was hard work for both of them. They’d agreed to hold off building their relationship until they’d healed themselves.

  A package arrived the first day she’d come home from the hospital. It touched her. Even in his deep sessions, he’d found the time to order her a present. She smiled at the white water bottle in the box with the red words “Warrior Girl” on it. He’d included a card that said simply, “I’m thinking about you.”

  But six months! Had he changed his mind? Forgotten about her?

  “Hey, beautiful.” Strong hands rested on her shoulders. She closed her eyes and took a deep, sweet breath. He’d come.

  “Nick!” She spun around to face him.

  Holy wowza. He looked good. Better than good. The worry in his amber eyes was gone. The chiseled sharpness to his jaw had relaxed. His smile was huge. The man had dimples? Before she could think straight, she jumped into hi
s arms and planted a kiss on his lips. His tongue rushed in, and soon they were making out at the start line.

  “Hell, I missed you,” he growled into her ear, sending delicious shivers all over her body. “So damned much. Imagining your sweet smile gave me the will to fight. But, shit, how I wanted you.”

  She trembled in his arms. “Show me. Let’s ditch the race and go to my place so I can have my way with you.”

  “Don’t tempt me, woman.” He nipped her jaw. “We made a commitment. We stand by it.”

  She grinned. God, she had a man who liked commitments.

  “Warriors, take your places!” a voice announced over a bullhorn.

  He pressed his forehead to hers. “You ready for this?”

  “I’d rather have my way with you, but, yeah. I’m ready. You?”

  “Damned straight.” He cupped her cheeks. Those intense amber eyes bored into her soul. “Afterwards, you’d better keep your promise. I’ll be thinking about what you are going to do to me the entire race.”

  “Good.” She ran her hand down his chest and over his six-pack abs. “Race advantage, mine.”

  He slapped her fanny. “You think you’re going to beat me? Rope climbs, belly-crawling through mud, scaling eight foot walls, monkey bars, Atlas lift, block drags, a 5K dirt trail run?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Don’t forget we can walk this thing.”

  “Walk?” she snorted. “I’m a Connor. We’re tough and competitive. Let’s say whoever gets the fastest time will get the best massage of his or her lifetime.” She whispered, “Naked.”

  He ran his hands down her arms. “Sounds like a win-win to me.”

  She grinned. “Exactly.”

  A gun went off. The race had begun.

  Acknowledgements

  Big thanks to Sandra Troutte, Kori Click, Anne Marsh, C.C. Wiley, Keri Ford, Natasha Moore, Gia Alden, and Orly Konig-Lopez for critiquing and improving this story.

  Special shout-out to triathlete Kristine Finlay for advising me about the Ironman, mud runs, and life in general. Thank you, my friend.